Something everyone would like to see
by Lady Fellshot
Summary: Currently, I've got too many characters to list having the obvious pointed out to them, starting with Drizzt. Short, silly, good for momentary amusement.
1. Facts of life

Disclaimer-- The characters aren't mine and I'm sure I'm not the only one who has had this story idea but I haven't seen it posted yet so here it is. Fear me!

In a wooded glade somewhere....

Drizzt: I wish I could tell Cat how I feel...

Zak: (suddenly appearing) BOO!

Drizzt: (jumps) AHHH! Oh wait..... Hi Father! You're alive?!

Zak: (rolls eyes) Thank all the Seladrine you haven't entirely lost your grasp of the obvious. From about what I've heard it's gone.

Drizzt: Really? What is it? Will I need to go on a quest to recover it?

Zak:(looking up, eyes closed, trying not to curse) .....no. I have a message for you.

Drizzt: What is it?

Zak: (Suddenly slaps Drizzt hard across the face, grabs him by the shoulders and starts to shake Drizzt like an obnoxious disobedient puppy) MARRY THAT GIRL YOU MORON!!!!! SHE CAN'T WAIT FOR YOU FOREVER!!!

Drizzt: (dazed) But....

Zak: If you don't want to take care of the kids, I'll do it.

Drizzt: But....

Zak: I'll flip a gold piece with Bruenor for the privilege.

Drizzt: But....

Zak: There are good drow around. The Ellisstraeans in Skullport for example.

Drizzt: But....

Zak: Do you think your reputation won't carry over to them?! Now stop looking like a beached fish and go ask her!

Drizzt: (face faults)

End

Author's note- Now that we have my opinion on Drizzt's lack of mind, I do plan on writing some sort of fic involving one or the other of them. Although if I mention either one of them in the opening summary it'll be a first...

Now please push the happy author button and give me a few reviews, flames, threats against my life (which I will use to line small animal cages, so send lots) and other happy thoughts on this small bit of nonsense.


	2. Heart to heart

Disclaimer: It's not mine I swear! (runs in little circles screaming)

_A planar crossroads café. Zaknafein Do'Urden and Ryld Argith are sitting at a table drinking coffee._

Ryld: No really, Lloth went to sleep and her priestesses can't renew spells right now.

Zak: Why couldn't this have happened when I was alive!

Ryld: I'm asking myself a similar question. Why did I have to live partly through this?

Zak: Oh come on. At least you could have done something with yourself, gotten away from Menzoberranzan, joined a mercenary outfit. You had it lucky, no house to answer to.

Ryld: (sighs) I found Halisstra.

Zak: (softens) That counts for something, however short it lasted.

(They sip their drinks for a little while)

Ryld: So what would you have done?

Zak: Halisstra or the priestesses?

Ryld: Both.

Zak: (thoughtful) With Halisstra I would have tried to convince her that there was no need to choose between faith and lover. Failing that, tried to convince her to go to Skullport.

Ryld: (curious) Why Skullport?

Zak: Options and variety.

Ryld: And the priestesses?

Zak: (grins like the Cheshire Cat) I'd've had me a right nice murder spree, starting with the clerics of House Do'Urden, followed by House Baenre and House Barrison Del'Armago. I might of even gotten paid to do it what with all the ambitious wizards in the city.

Ryld: (blinks) I didn't know you were that much of a loose cannon.

Zak: (still enjoying his fantasy) It was just a little dangerous to let it be that obvious. (looks around) Looks like your ticket to your afterlife just came up. I should get back to mine.

Ryld: (nods and gets up to leave) Good plotting and dark caverns.

Zak: (salutes with his mug) Sweet water and light laughter. And good luck. You've a tough time ahead of you.

Author's Note

I really need to lay off the caffeine. It seems to be interfering with my brain functions. Sorry for this weird little vignette. Feel free to rant about it, must detox now…


	3. Did something rash

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine but the satire is. Fear the plot device powered by an infinite improbability drive.

--)-------

_In Myth Drannor while it is getting reconstructed. Araevin Teshurr sits next to the Tree of Souls sapling looking depressed._

Araevin: SIGH

The Srinshee: (walks up) You know, you are the only one who wasn't cheering when I finally handed off that Crownblade. I would think that you of all people would be glad of a large scale, if unofficial, elven Return to Faerûn. Why the long face?

Araevin: My betrothed left me for someone her father resurrected. Is there a reason I shouldn't be a little down?

The Srinshee: Ah, you're Lady Miritar's old flame.

Araevin: (still sad) I thought we had something going…

The Srinshee: In the long stretches of time you spent together?

Araevin: (continues on) … shared opinions…

The Srinshee: From what I heard, you two were arguing more often than not recently.

Araevin: (still ignoring the Srinshee) …and would spend the rest of our centuries together.

The Srinshee: (blinks) Nobody told you the minutae of the Rite of Transformation, did they?

Araevin: About the losing most of my soul? That I knew about and I'm still uncomfortable with it.

The Srinshee: You didn't do any other research? Like who else besides Ithraides and his apprentices went through with it? I know Kael's notes and memoires were lost, but there were a few others who went through with that rite and lived to regret it. And wrote about regretting it. In volumes.

Araevin: (starts to have a bad feeling) Nooo… why?

The Srinshee: (lecturing) By giving up your soul to an extraplanar entity you have now permanently bound yourself to that entity in one way or another. Ithraides is still serving at the Court of Stars and so is Morthil now.

Araevin: You're kidding.

The Srinshee: Please remember where I moved my tower to. No, I am not joking. Even better, you will eventually have to find your own way there. You can't will yourself to Arvenardor anymore. You can die if killed though, but you are still bound to serve whoever you traded you soul to and you are not going to have any noticeable signs of aging.

Araevin: (shrugs) That doesn't sound so bad. At least I'm beholden to a paragon of good… What happened to that "Kael" you mentioned?

The Srinshee: (rolls eyes) He's guarding a door and has been for eons. Literally. Until someone comes by with the requisite criteria to open the door. Rumor had it the powers over him decided to let him retire as soon as it opens to teach whoever opened it and then he's done. Mighty big of them.

Araevin: (frowns) How long has he been guarding this door?

The Srinshee: Since the Dark Disaster during the Crown Wars. He also pledged himself to a paragon of good.

Araevin: Crap.

The Srinshee: (approvingly) Now you've got the right attitude.

--)--------

She moved a tower, with her in it, to Arvenardor.

Author's note

I seem to have developed an interest in breeding plot bunnies of this variety. They're so much fun! I apologize for my lousy spelling of place names because I feel too lazy to go look them up. Now, I am taking requests for the next character to get lampooned and who should give them the business. I will give mention to whoever suggests one that ends up here. Now it is time to zap a comment, suggestion, fire, brimstone or laser cannon through the happy author button below.


	4. Girl to girl talk

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine and I have nothing so don't bother suing. I don't think that I'm the only one to have harbored this idea but I haven't seen anything like it recently, so there. On the other hand I wasn't looking all that hard. Oops.

**Warning: Suggestive humor ahead! For those who do not enjoy such things, turn back now!**

--)--------

_Mithril Hall. Catti-Brie is sitting at a table with Stumpet, sipping hot mulled cider._

Stumpet: (slyly) So how was maulin' the mattress with the elf, girl?

Catti-Brie: (chokes on her cider, spluttering) None of your business!

Stumpet: (innocently) O' course it isn't. Given any thought on whether ye'll be wanting to marry 'im?

Catti-Brie: (huge sigh) I'd feel like I was leavin' Wulfgar twisting in the wind as it were but I would love to marry 'im.

Stumpet: Which of the two are ye talking about?

Catti-Brie: Drizzt… wait, no… Wulfgar… umm… Do I have to give ye an answer now?

Stumpet: (mock offended) What? So ye can compare their charms?

Catti-Brie: (slowly turns beet red) Sounded bad, didn't it?

Stumpet: Yup. A suggestion?

Catti-Brie: If I say no, will it matter?

Stumpet: Nope.

Catti-Brie: (resigned) Go ahead, then.

Stumpet: Don't take either of them to weddin' vows and enjoy their company anyway if ye can wangle 'em into likin' the idea.

Catti-Brie: (shocked) What!

Stumpet: (undeterred) There's no law that says ye have to marry although there is a ton of rock concerning faith to one's spouse, duty to produce children, duty to clan and clanhold…

Catti-Brie: But… both of them!

Stumpet: (still undeterred) Ye'll have the advantage of instantly bein' able to tell whose get ye got should it ever happen. I'd bet King Bruenor would be mightily pleased to have grandkids.

Catti-Brie: (dazed) Both!

Stumpet: Did ye accidentally get into the hard cider, girl? Ye look a mite moon eyed.

--)--------

Author's note

Yes, this is a rebuttal of the first chapter. No, I still think that Drizzt could stand to be slapped and shaken into good sense. I merely note that marriage is nearly always narrative death for female characters in fantasy settings. Yes, I know there are exceptions. There aren't many of them. Must… stop… typing… drabbles… too… much or head will explode. Feel free to rant in the reviews that no one sends.


	5. Ego Deflation

Disclaimer: I do not own the Forgotten Realms or Elminster. Everything else in this little piece of nonsense is mine though.

--)--------

_Somewhere in the vast reaches of time and space_

Mother of Dungeon Masters: Hello, El. Long time, no see.

Elminster: Umm… Hi there. Do I know you? You seem familiar somehow…

MoDMs: I should say so. I was one of those who threw challenges at you a long time ago.

Elminster: (looks pensive) Stuff like the chocolate pudding that was really a black ooze and nearly killed off myself and all of my traveling companions?

MoDMs: (smiles) Yes.

Elminster: (looks worried) You don't have that deck of cards on you, do you?

MoDMs: (innocently) The planar deck?

Elminster: Yes, that deck. It took forever to play the right game of poker to get out of the 458th layer of the Abyss.

MoDMs: Not at the moment. I lent it out.

Elminster: (relieved) Thank Mystra!

MoDMs: I have come to offer you an ultimatum: retire from the affairs of Toril, die, plant beets or ascend to godhood, whatever; or I will be forced to unleash incalculable doom upon you personally.

Elminster: One question, how bad is this incalculable doom of which you speak?

MoDMs: Remember that time you shorted my half elven thief NPC? Where to get you back, she stripped you and all your traveling companions of everything you had, including your skivvies? And buried all your non-magical clothing in the nest of fire ants?

Elminster: Yes…

MoDMs: (smiling) This will be worse.

Elminster: (confused) How!

MoDMs: (smiles wider) I reproduced and the children are grown now. They are as devious as I am and they will come after you with their NPCs and scenarios. And they aren't afraid of bashing canon to bits.

Elminster: (pales) Can I have some time to think about this? I have some loose ends I need to tie up…

MoDMs: (demonic grin) No.

--)--------

A/N: Ok, ok I know this doesn't really make any sense. I really wanted to roast Elminster but could not for the life of me find a FR character qualified to give him the business. Then I learned that Elminster started off as a player character. Who better to slap an over the top player character down than a dungeon master? Please send a review if y'all like but no bashing the Mother of Dungeon Masters, please. She's based on my mother. Go second generation nerds!


	6. Death Threats

Disclaimer: Not mine! EEEEEEEEEE!!!

--)--------

_Two notorious rogues sit at a table in a slightly direputable tavern, playing checkers. _

Artemis Entrei: Your move elf.

Elaith Craulnobur: So it is (takes another one of the assasin's pieces and adds it to a small pile) So tell me, have you figured out if you will be the weapon or the hand?

Artemis Entrei: (glaring) I am both. (looks back at the board)

Elaith Craulnobur: (sarcastic) So you have a job planned then? Good for you.

Artemis Entrei: (moves a piece away from one of Elaith's) None of your business.

Elaith Craulnobur: If I were interested in hiring you, would it become my business? (jumps and takes another one of Entrei's pieces)

Artemis Entrei: I've got my own fop with a death wish. Thank you but no.

Elaith Craulnobur: (sighs) No not Thann. It would upset people I'd rather were not upset.

Artemis Entrei: Blackstaff? (moves another piece away from danger)

Elaith Craulnobur: No, Arilyn. (jumps the piece Entrei just moved) The job would be in Skullport. A... business competitor. Your friend would be right at home there.

Artemis Entrei: He's not my friend. (gives a disgruntled look at the board and jumps one of Elaith's pieces)

Elaith Craulnobur: Of course not. Those in your business know either employers or marks with nothing in between. (takes the piece Entrei just moved) So which category does the dark one fall into?

Artemis Entrei: Potential mark. (looks down at the board) Where did all my pieces go?

Elaith Craulnobur: (smirks) And this is why I run a business conglmerate and you do not. A better focus on all the aspects...

_The elf is interrupted by manical druken laughter a few tables over. A well dressed blond man sits at a table with a similarly strikingly dressed dark elf with four empty bottles of wine between them._

Danlio Thann: (drunk as a skunk) You simply must give me the name of your tailor!

Jarlaxle: (similarly sloshed) And I must know who does your hats!

Artemis Entrei: (looking over at the iniebriated pair) On second thought, I am going to kill him.

Elaith Craulnobur: I'll save you the trouble and set Arilyn on them both.

--)--------

Author's Note: Ah, sweet insanity. Leave me a note about it.


	7. A Little Rain

Disclaimer: Sad to say, the characters are not mine. If they were, I swear I would have used them only for good purposes. But they aren't. The idea is mine and anyone who tries to think along the same wavelength will find themselves subject to running around in little circles shrieking nonsense.

**Warning! Very mild spoilers for _Sacrifice of the Widow_!**

--)--------

_Arvandor. A lone dark elf sits by a lovely celestial tree where new arrivals tend to show up._

Elkantar Veladorn: (waiting patiently)

Zaknafein Do'Urden: (wanders by, glances at Elkantar, then stops) What are you doing sitting there?

Elkantar: Waiting for a downpour.

Seiveril Miritar: (also wandering by) It doesn't storm here.

Zaknafein: (smirks and sits next to Elkantar) How would you know? You haven't been here long enough to find out.

Seiveril: (irritated) I do know my planes though and it doesn't rain here. Besides, from all I've heard, you shouldn't be here anyway.

Zaknafein: I have every right to be here. (grins evilly) Care to dispute it, _m'thain_?

Seiveril: No. Your reputation precedes you.

Elkantar: You must have been talking to the bralani and ghaele warriors. I knew about him before I got cut down. Anyway, I wasn't talking about rain.

Seiveril: (mildly confused) Well, then what...?

_The sun elf priest is interrupted by the sudden arrival of lots and lots of priestesses and laypeople of Elisstraee._

Zaknafein: (chuckling) It's raining girls.

Elkantar: So it is. (waves to one of the disoriented drow priestesses) Hi Iljrene.

Seiveril: This place is really hopping after battles isn't it?

Elkantar: I saw that it took a few years after that attack on Evermeet to sort everyone out so that they weren't at each other's throats here.

Zaknafein: You should hear the Crown war veterans reminisce.

_The confused priestesses and worshipers of Elisstraee start to wink out. One of them waves sadly at Elkantar, who gives a little farewell wave in response._

Elkantar: (sighs) Well, that's it. I wish the policy of resurrecting everyone who falls in service to the Dark Maiden had been in effect when I was around. I miss Qilue.

Seiveril: (pats Elkantar's shoulder) Eventually you'll be reunited.

Zaknafein: The viewing pools will let you watch, at least. I need to mosey over to the salles and see what mistakes people are making today. Sweet water...

Elkantar: ... Dark caverns. Have fun smacking the eladrin around.

--)--------

_m'thain – _priest

For those of you who find themselves confused about the characters, here are their respective books:

Zaknafein Do'Urden – _Homeland_

Elkantar Veladorn – _Daughter of the Drow_

Seiveril Miritar – _The Last Mythal_ trilogy

As for the rest, I'm going to explain it away as a delusion. I hope it was a little bit amusing for you, gentle reader.


End file.
